The Comfort Of Friends
by Medie
Summary: An old friend shows up in D.C. and Monica needs to talk.


Title: The Comfort Of Friends  
Author: M.Edison  
Archive: To XFMU and ReyesRomances; anybody else. Ask first.  
Feedback: Yes please, keep it polite! But send to medison@thezone.net  
Keywords: Skinner/Reyes UST, Doggett/Scully UST, Original Character,  
Reyesfic, humor  
Spoilers: General ones for Season 9  
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. If I did, the characters would  
behave like the characters and Scully'd admit where her true love really  
lies yadda yadda yadda. ;-) Caryn however is mine and you wouldn't want her.  
She's too damn stubborn and independant for my liking. ;-)  
Summary: An old friend shows up in D.C. and Monica needs to talk.  
  
  
The Comfort of Friends  
by M.Edison  
------------------  
  
X-Files Office  
J. Edgar Hoover Building  
Washington, D.C.  
7:30 p.m.  
  
"You look like a woman in need of a drink."  
  
Monica Reyes heard the smooth words and was about to reply with a retort,  
when she realized two things.  
  
A: The voice was female.  
  
B: It was an old friend.  
  
"Caryn!" She looked up gratefully at the woman standing in the doorway.  
  
"Hey, Mon," Walking forward, Caryn fussed with her ID badge and dropped down  
into the chair before Monica's desk. "How goes the dream assignment?"  
  
The teasing smile brought a groan of frustration from her former partner. "I  
love the work," Reyes began slowly, clearly trying to find the good in  
whatever was bothering her about her current assignment.  
  
"But?" The brunette across from her prompted, leaning forward. "Follmer  
poking his nose into things?"  
  
"You know about Brad?!"  
  
Caryn's expression was almost irritated. "Mon, come on, this is me we're  
talking about." She grinned unrepentantly. "You know how it is . . . "  
  
"You can take the girl out of the Company but you can't take the Company  
training out of the girl." They chorused, and then laughed.  
  
"I know all, I hear all . . . " The newcomer intoned, standing up. "So, does  
Doggett have you chained to your desk 24-7 or can I buy an old friend a  
drink and let her bitch and moan about work to me?"  
  
Monica laughed. "Let's get out of here." Grabbing her jacket and keys, she  
followed her friend out of the office.  
  
----  
  
Jake's Bar and Grill  
8:00 p.m.  
Washington, D.C.  
  
"So, what are you doing in town? New assignment? Or are you still working  
out of New Orleans?" Monica asked, popping a french fry into her mouth and  
hissing when it burned her tongue.  
  
A glass of Pepsi was waiting for her, held by Caryn, and she took it with a  
grateful smile.  
  
"Well, in between, actually." Picking up her own drink, the other agent  
leaned back against the red naugahyde of the booth and put her feet up on  
the opposite seat. "I'm considering taking an assignment with the K and R  
guys. The new head's been asking about me."  
  
"Kidnap and Ransom?" Her voice carried a hoarse note from the frantic gulp  
of drink and Monica cleared her throat in an attempt to be rid of it. "Do  
you have the patience for that?"  
  
Caryn made a face at her and tossed a fry. "Damn straight I do. I put up  
with you every day, didn't I?"  
  
The women chuckled and fell silent until they'd put a good portion of their  
meal away.  
  
"So . . . about the X-Files? What's got you so..." She paused, trying to  
find the right word. "Steamed?"  
  
"Frustrated." Monica corrected, sitting back and stabbing at the ketchup on  
her plate with a fry.  
  
"Okay, frustrated." Caryn amended with a nod. "What's got you so  
frustrated?"  
  
"Men . . . work . . . aliens."  
  
"Ahh . . . the usual?"  
  
'Yeah," The raven-haired woman sighed. "The usual."  
  
"Let's start with . . . aliens?"  
  
Monica made a face. "You would..."  
  
"Talk." The other woman ordered, pointing at her with a stern finger; one  
her friend batted away.  
  
"Ok . . . but don't say I didn't warn you!"  
  
-----  
  
By the time Monica had finished with what she'd read in the X-Files archives  
and what she'd experienced herself, particularly her frantic cross-country  
drive to protect Dana Scully and her unborn child, the two women had  
finished with dinner and were well into dessert. Given the nature of the  
topics they were discussing, chocolate was featuring heavily in said  
dessert.  
  
"Mon, if I didn't know you, I'd say you were completely out of your tree.'  
Caryn thought about that sentence for a moment, then quickly amended. "Well,  
actually, most of the time I *do* think you're completely out of your tree  
but that's in a different way."  
  
"Gee, thanks." Reyes smiled wryly, stealing a spoonful of her old friend's  
oh-so-delectable chocolate cheesecake. "I feel so much better, now. Tons . .  
. See?" She made a depressive face and the other woman snickered.  
  
"What I see is D.C. rapidly finishing off what shred of sanity remains in  
you." She laughed at the wounded expression on Monica's face but continued  
anyway. "But, really, Monica; an alien race colonizing the Earth by creating  
replicates with bumpy necks who can be ground up into chopped meat and still  
come back to smack you around? Forgive me for saying, but that's the most  
absurd thing I've ever heard in my life. And I've heard some whacked out  
theories before."  
  
"Most of them from me." Monica agreed with a rueful chuckle.  
  
"Oh, I don't know about that. Your one to explain where socks go in the  
drier was pretty good - though what on Earth demonic forces would be doing  
with argyles is beyond my ken." Caryn smacked the hand that was sneaking  
toward what was left of her dessert and continued speaking as if it hadn't  
happened. "I mean, listen to the words coming out of your mouth: *really*  
listen to them. It's absolutely bizarre!"  
  
"I know." Her friend interjected, swallowing a spoonful of her sundae.  
"Believe me, I know. I had a hard time buying the alien stuff, myself. When  
John called me to Montana, I was thinking UFO Cult . . . actual *aliens* was  
another story entirely. Didn't even enter my head until I saw that...light .  
. . ship...whatever!"  
  
"But that changed your mind?"  
  
"That and the events that came afterwards. I *saw* Fox Mulder's body Caryn.  
He was *dead*: Decomposing dead! There is no way someone can come back from  
that . . . but he did. He's out there somewhere, running away from some  
threat that we don't even know about, very much *alive*. Tell me how that  
could be terrestrial in origin." Monica's voice became low and urgent as she  
spoke. As if by her very words she could convince Caryn to believe the  
things she did. To Believe, period. "And when I was with Dana in Georgia?  
Those people weren't human . . . No way. It's the only option. I know it's  
hard to believe, but it is."  
  
The woman across from her sighed heavily. "I know you believe that Mon, and  
you know I trust your judgement and those 'feelings' of yours better than I  
trust my own but...in this case? I'd have to say seeing is believing on this  
one. Maybe not even then."  
  
"Careful what you wish for, Caryn; Whenever the X-Files are involved, you  
just may get it. " Monica warned, only half-joking.  
  
----  
  
They'd moved on to coffee when the next topic was broached...and when she  
asked, Caryn's tone was guarded as she had a hunch where things were going.  
  
She was wrong.  
  
"So . . . The men problems? Brad or John?"  
  
Monica's looked up from her mug in surprise. "Neither."  
  
If she was surprised, then Caryn was downright shocked. "Neither?! I thought  
. . . " She fumbled for the right words. "I know you and Follmer had  
a...well...a thing and I thought..."  
  
"That I had a thing for John?" The other woman finished with a smile. At  
Caryn's nod, she shook her head. "I don't . . . well, not in the sense that  
I want it to move past work and friendship. He's *great* and I'm not blind,  
but it would be a disaster. There's too much history there and not a lot of  
it is pleasant."  
  
That was something her old friend understood implicitly. She'd been there  
during the investigation, she'd been the one sharing a pack of tissues with  
Monica in their hotel room at night. She could still recall how pathetic  
they must have looked. One sitting on one bed, the other on the one  
opposite, each reaching into the box of tissues that sat on the night stand  
between them.  
  
That had been a case that had nearly broken their fledgling partnership  
apart. The stress had been unlike anything they'd dealt with before. Nearly  
disastrous.  
  
It amazed her that Monica was able to work so well with Doggett . . . but  
then, maybe it shouldn't.  
  
Maybe the stress they'd gone through had bonded their friendship like that  
of combat veterans. The intense fire of the investigation and the search for  
his son had built a bond that transcended ordinary friendship.  
  
It was an enigma, for sure.  
  
But aside from that, one thing was puzzling her: Who had Monica so...out of  
sorts now?  
  
"Well, if it's not Doggett and it's not Brad . . . Then, do you mind me  
asking *who* it is?"  
  
Monica fidgeted with the coffee cup, clinking the rings she wore against the  
ceramic. "It's not someone you know...at least I don't think you know  
him..."  
  
"Mon . . . *who*?"  
  
"Assistant Director Walter Skinner." Reyes blurted out and watched a  
surprised look form on Caryn's face.  
  
"AD Skinner?"  
  
"You know him." A statement of fact, not a question.  
  
"Well . . . in passing yes. I've never actually worked with, or for, him but  
I've definitely heard of him. Isn't he..."  
  
"My boss. Yeah." Monica nodded slowly and Caryn sighed.  
  
"Now there's a can of worms just waiting to be opened up." The other woman  
countered with a smile. "Do you know if he . . . returns it?"  
  
"I haven't tried to find out." The reluctant admission was accompanied by a  
duck of her dark head and a hand running through her hair. "It's not a path  
I'm sure I want to go down, again."  
  
"Well, if you don't mind a little unsolicited advice, he's as different from  
Brad Follmer as night is from day. Brad's got it into his head he's bound  
for the Director's chair and he doesn't realize that not enough people want  
him there for it to happen." Caryn leaned forward, resting her forearms on  
the table. "But what I hear on Skinner is he's not thinking about whether or  
not he's making the Director's chair. He's concerned about doing his job . .  
. which, if it carries over into his personal life, makes for a much more .  
. . honest type of man."  
  
It didn't take a genius to see what Caryn was delicately trying to avoid  
saying. She thought Skinner much more trustworthy in a relationship than  
Brad. And truthfully, Monica couldn't be sure she wasn't right.  
  
She knew Brad was the type to lie and cheat or anything of that sort; Not  
when it came to a relationship . . . but she also knew it wasn't the type of  
relationship she wanted at this point in her life. It seemed cliche to say,  
but she wasn't twenty-five any more, and she wanted someone who'd already  
learned the lessons of life.  
  
She wanted Walter Skinner.  
  
She could try to justify it any way she wanted, but the bottom line was  
desire and she knew it. Attraction, desire...instinct. Her instincts told  
her she was meant for this man and try as she might, she couldn't convince  
them otherwise.  
  
She did wonder if that was why Brad was in her life again. If God, or fate,  
or whatever had decided to prove her attraction to Skinner valid by  
returning the biggest romance of her life into her world again. Proving to  
her that there was nothing there now. Nothing for her, any longer.  
  
Brad was a friend and an important part of her past, but that was all. In  
another life, maybe. But not this one.  
  
Caryn watched the emotions behind Monica's thoughts play out on her  
expressive face and then nodded to herself. This one was serious. She wasn't  
sure, yet, if even Monica could see that, but she could. There was a resolve  
in her eyes. Whether AD Skinner returned her affections or not, she'd love  
him.  
  
"Do it." She urged quietly.  
  
The other woman looked at her with a questioning expression. "Do what?"  
  
"Find a way to tell him. Make your emotions clear to him. Do *something* to  
let him know." Leaning forward, she gripped her friend's hand, tightly. "I'  
ve known you for a long time Mon, I've *never* seen you this hung up on  
someone...you're falling for him." She smiled softly. "You *are* in love  
with him and if you don't at least try to see if he returns that, it'll be  
the biggest mistake of your life."  
  
Monica mustered up a smile. "That bad, huh?"  
  
"No." Caryn shook her head. "That good."  
  
-----  
  
John Doggett's Residence  
Falls Church, Virgina  
1:23 a.m.  
  
"Jawn..."  
  
The slurred voice filled his ear and Doggett sat up with a surprised look on  
his face. "Monica?" No way...he'd never...Monica? Drunk?  
  
"Yesssh...ish me."  
  
Thoroughly confused, he turned on the light, tugging his grey t-shirt down  
over his abdomen. "Monica, it's 1-somethin' in the morning and you sound  
drunk."  
  
"'Cause I am." He heard giggles in the background, then Monica shushing  
someone before she continued. "Car..Cary...We got drunk." She said simply  
after giving up on trying to pronounce the name.  
  
Cary...  
  
"Caryn?" John supplied, the corner of his mouth crooking up in a grin. This  
was going to be a fun one to lord over her come Monday. "Caryn Bradford?"  
  
"Yesh." Monica sighed out in relief.  
  
"Lemme guess, you two went out for a drink, ended up having dinner, dessert,  
coffee then got absolutely hammered?"  
  
"Yesh." She repeated in confirmation.  
  
"Need a ride?"  
  
"Yesh."  
  
John held the phone away from his mouth as he snickered. Yeah, this one was  
gonna be fun. He made a mental note to call Dana in the morning. See if she  
wanted in on the teasing; maybe cook up some incredibly disgusting cure for  
hangovers... This one was too good not to be shared.  
  
"Where are you?" He asked finally, forcing down his chuckles.  
  
"Jake'sh." Reyes confirmed after a moment's deliberation with Caryn.  
  
"Ok. Stay there. The two of you. I'll be right there."  
  
Hanging up the phone, John swung his legs over the end of the bed, barely  
noticing the cold floor; he sat there for a minute, scratching his head and  
considering the whole situation.  
  
Finally...with a grin, he shook his head, chuckled and got up: He had two  
happy drunks to drive home.  
  
-----  
  
Jake's Bar and Grill  
Washington, D.C.  
2:15 a.m.  
  
He found them sitting on the front stoop of the Bar, giggling helplessly  
over some joke. Closing the truck's door with a firm thud, he shoved his  
hands into the pockets of his warm coat and ambled over to stand before  
them.  
  
"Cold out here, ain't it, ladies?"  
  
Monica and Caryn squinted up at him through the clouds of their breath.  
  
"No." They replied as one, giggling at themselves.  
  
The grin he'd been working to suppress won its battle and spread across his  
face in full glory.  
  
"Anybody care to tell me how you two managed to get this drunk?"  
  
"Ahhh...." Caryn dragged out her answer as she looked at Monica then slowly  
brought her gaze back to Doggett's face. "Nope!"  
  
He snickered. "All right ladies...on your feet." Reaching down, John took  
each one by an arm and helped them stand. "Just a little walk to the truck  
and then you can sleep, or giggle, or whatever you want. Just don't throw  
up."  
  
With the two women half-leaning on him, walking was a bit of a challenge and  
he really stumbled when he felt a pat on his behind.  
  
"Y'know Jawn..." Caryn drawled. "Y'got a *great* assh..."  
  
Monica snickered. "You should see the way Schully shtaresh at it." She  
hiccuped.  
  
Doggett's eyebrows rose. "She does, huh?"  
  
"Oh, yeahhh...." His partner continued on, waving a hand exaggeratedly -  
nearly losing her balance in the process. "Spechially when we were over  
there...helpin' move shtuff..."  
  
"Jeansh?" Caryn questioned with a hiccup.  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
The other woman sighed appreciatively: which would have been really  
embarrassing for both if she hadn't been drunk and staring at the hubcap on  
the truck.  
  
"Remind me to interrogate you later, Monica." Doggett said with a chuckle,  
fully intending on doing so.  
  
"Roger."  
  
Propping Caryn up against the truck, John helped Monica get in, buckling her  
seatbelt for her, then turned to help the other woman in as well.  
  
"All settled in?"  
  
Both women nodded vigourously, their heads flopping a bit like rag dolls.  
  
Laughing, he closed the door. "Don't envy them come mornin'," he drawled to  
himself. "Gonna be a bad hangover for 'em both."  
  
----  
Monica Reyes's Apartment  
Washington, D.C.  
11:30 a.m.  
  
"Ooooohh..." When Monica woke up she was lying in a patch of sunlight.  
Sunlight wasn't supposed to hurt. But it did, so she rolled away from it and  
found the motion promptly made her nauseous. She squinted her eyes and tried  
to read the numbers on her clock. "Oh man, I'm late!" She sat up quickly and  
regretted the motion.  
  
"You're not late." Dana Scully's voice advised quietly. "It's Saturday." She  
held out a glass of something entirely foul smelling in one hand and aspirin  
in the other. "Here, drink this."  
  
Reyes's nose wrinkled as the glass neared her face. "What *is* that?"  
  
"You're better off not knowing." The petite redhead replied with an amused  
smile. "Just take the pills first then hold your nose and drink it."  
  
"Does that actually work?"  
  
"Sometimes."  
  
The non-committal tone brought a grimace from Monica as she reached for the  
aspirin first. "That's reassuring."  
  
"Drink." Scully ordered in, best Doctor tones, before handing over the glass  
and starting for the door.  
  
"Yes, Doctor..." Monica replied dutifully. "Or is it Dr. Mom?"  
  
The comment brought a laugh from the other woman as she carefully closed the  
door.  
  
----  
  
When Monica finally emerged from her bedroom, she found Caryn sitting in a  
chair with the baby in her arms while Dana puttered around in the kitchen,  
cleaning up the remenants of whatever had been in the cure for the hangover  
from hell.  
  
"How come you look so chipper?" She groused to the other brunette who was  
making silly faces for an appreciative William.  
  
"Woke up about three hours ago, still out of whack with the clocks, and Dana  
was here. She gave me a glass of that stuff and the aspirin too." Caryn  
smiled and twisted her lips for the baby. "It works wonders."  
  
Monica draped herself across the couch, covering her face with her forearm.  
"How long?"  
  
"Does it take to work?"  
  
"30 minutes, if you're looking for a rough estimate." Dana answered, walking  
over and handing her a bottle of water. "Drink that."  
  
"More of that so-called 'remedy'?"  
  
"No, water." She touched the cold bottle to Monica's cheek making her yelp  
and sit up. "It'll help."  
  
Taking the water, Reyes did as she was told. "How'd you get in?"  
  
"John." The slender redhead moved to sit down. "He called me this morning  
and..." Dana grinned. "Told me about your adventures last night."  
  
Both women shared a look, and Monica vaguely remembered Caryn making a  
comment about John's ass followed quickly by a comment about...  
  
Oops.  
  
Clearly Caryn remembered, too, as she blushed deeply and focused on the  
infant in her arms.  
  
"What?" Looking from one woman to the other, Dana raised questioning  
eyebrows. Didn't take a psychic to see they were remembering something from  
their night out and whatever it was, she could also see they weren't  
particularly inclined to share it. "What's that about?"  
  
The other two women shared a quick look then turned innocent expressions on  
Dana.  
  
"Nothing." Monica lied blithely. "Just remembering a few silly things we  
said to John."  
  
The petite redhead didn't buy it for a second but she also knew it was the  
closest thing to the truth she was likely to get from either woman in the  
very near future. Fortunately she was a patient woman when she needed to be.  
  
"I suspect you said many silly things last night." Dana's mouth curved up  
into a small smile as the other two women flushed.  
  
"I vaguely remember a comment about..." Caryn's blush deepened. "Let's just  
say I admired a section of John's anatomy...."  
  
Monica gave the third woman a knowing look and watched her blue eyes widen  
while her mouth formed a perfect 'o'. She reserved comment knowing that was  
only the intial reaction.  
  
She wasn't wrong.  
  
Dana Scully giggled.  
  
It wasn't a big giggle and it wasn't a loud giggle but it was a giggle. A  
respectable giggle.  
  
But it was also a giggle that grew into a laugh. Like the giggle that had  
preceeded it, it was soft but undeniable.  
  
Dana Scully laughed.  
  
It felt like it had been forever since she'd laughed. As though she'd been  
denied laughter so long that she'd forgotten how good it felt. How  
cleansing. How alive it made her feel.  
  
Caryn didn't understand the significance of it; she would in time, but  
Monica did.  
  
And she smiled.  
  
----  
  
"So, are you going to take that position?"  
  
Dana and her infant son had long since gone home by the time Monica finally  
got around to asking the question that had been niggling in the back of her  
mind all day. It was good to have Caryn around. She'd forgotten what it was  
like to go to a bar with a good friend and cut loose. Not that she couldn't  
call John now and then but it was different. John was there if she needed  
him, but girl talk wasn't exactly his strong suit and as much as she was  
growing to like Dana, they weren't quite to that point, yet, where they  
could curl up in their pajamas with a pint of ice cream and talk about  
whatever deep dark secret they'd been hoarding that week.  
  
"Naw..." Caryn reached for another slice of pizza and took a large bite, her  
words muffled by the food when she continued. "K & R's got too much  
travel...I'm thinking I'll stick around D.C. for a while. Try being a  
regular FBI agent for a change."  
  
"Weren't you a regular FBI agent in New Orleans? Or New York?"  
  
The other woman snorted. "Mon, *no one* is a regular agent when they work  
with you. Haven't you learned that one by now?"  
  
A pillow thumping the top of her head answered that question.  
  
"I'm glad..."  
  
Caryn looked over with a smirk. "That you're strange?"  
  
"Smart ass." Her old friend accused affectionately.  
  
"Yep."  
  
Reyes rolled her eyes. "You're terrible. What I *mean* is I'm glad you're  
going to stay in D.C. for a while...it'll be good to have you around again."  
  
"Need an estrogen boost down in the basement?" Caryn teased with a grin.  
"With Doggett down there and AD Skinner lurking around, you must be fairly  
drowning in testosterone." She thought about that then sat up a bit.  
"Wait...if I were you..."  
  
"If you were me, I'd need *serious* therapy."  
  
"You implying I'm crazy?"  
  
"No, I'm *saying* it." Monica laughed. "Seriously Caryn, I've missed you."  
  
"Missed you, too, partner..." The other woman replied equally seriously.  
  
They smiled at each other and then relaxed into their respective chairs.  
  
"Mon?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You are going to listen, right?"  
  
"Listen to what?"  
  
"My advice...About Skinner."  
  
She didn't answer that. Not that Caryn needed her to.  
  
They both knew she would.  
  
There was no other option. Not for her.  
  
But if only she could figure out *how*...  
  
"We'll worry about *that* later."  
  
Monica looked over, not surprised in the slightest that Caryn had known  
where her thoughts were going.  
"So what do we worry about now?"  
  
The other woman held up two video tapes. "Clooney or Cruise?"  
  
Ah...a dilemmia that could be easily solved.  
  
"Both."  
  
They grinned.  
  
Finis 


End file.
